Apple Street Agency: Beyond the Mirror
by Creativemasta
Summary: This is a side story to an F/SN fanfic featuring casts from Tsukihime/Rakkyo. The story will have a direct connection with the Fic.Can also be read as a stand alone. Fixed chapter


Apple Street Agency Chapter4 ½ : Satsujinki

The Crimson moon revealed it's ominous figure on the great plains as the day's heat gave way to the cold of the night, immersing the vast endless prairie under the dark ochre scenery. Apart from the swirling breeze that added to the dead silence of the land it was safe to say that the overall milieu was devoid of any trace of human activity or anything else alike. Fair to say, everything felt stagnant; no life whatsoever. As if a frame of a film was ripped off from a third rate documentary film. In contrast to the arid, omnipresent stillness that pervaded the land, was an ever so rare presence of humanity. One as uncanny as the dead silence that spread across the horizon.

***

"Has the target's location been confirmed, Number Seven?"

Breaking the cold silence was a rough crackle that ensued from an old radio receiver, carelessly placed on a hill. Sitting beside the antique was a beauty with a long sleek azure hair that reached down to her shoulder. Donned in dark mud stained clerical uniform, all one would expect from her rather petite figure was nothing more than your perfectly average 'Runaway Nun' who gave in to the way of evil (in a secular term that is). But as many would say in this kind of situation; appearance could indeed deceive you.

She's a member of the burial agency, an organization notorious for its ruthless and brutal policy towards the bloodsucking kind, namely the Twenty Seven Dead Apostles. However, her purpose here was for something a bit different.

"Affirmative Archbishop Karen Ortensia , position acquired, pending timing of capture."

"Good, the council is anxiously waiting for the outcome; they expect nothing less than success. Acquire his assistance and retrieve the Dagger of Cain. That is your mission."

"And if he doesn't comply?"

A short silence ensued from the receiver but it wasn't long before the answer came. It was short and concise, precisely the type of answer she expected.

"Kill him..."

The agent hesitated but gave the same answer she'd uttered many times before in the face of this organization. She knew there wasn't any other option besides it the authority of the church was absolute and free will never really existed. Naturally, this:

"...Understood."

There was no such thing as an intent in that speech, just apathy... And perhaps a bit of disgust. She always resented the helplessness; the absence of will in her short reply. It was perpetual and unchanging, the only thing that she gained from that was a sense of hate and coldness which aggravated with each successive nods she made.

This short conversation with the Archbishop was supposed to be just another day at the office. But somehow it felt different, and this wasn't the first time she felt it.

"Master, is there something wrong? You don't usually make that face when you're out working."

The agent turned her head to her familiar to the right who was sitting, busy toying with a sack of carrots. Not bothering to look for the notice of her master, the half horse-half girl creature tried biting at one of the carrots with her flat, horse hoofed hands. After a few slips, though, she gave up and just buried her head inside the sack and began feeding on the carrots.

"Something's wrong...is it..."  
Deciding to ignore her familliar's inelegant behavior, she turned her head towards the moon and then down beneath the steep hill where a small agrarian village humbly stood on the desert like stretch of grass  
Without lights and signs of human life, the town seemed like an abandoned ghost town, . But such wasn't actually the case.

A village of the Amish it is called; a safe haven for the strict Protestants who abandoned all worldly desires. They decided instead to live life without comfort or any modern accommodations, including electricity, gas, and other contemporary tools of comfort alike. Everything about their complexions closely resembled that of Civil War Era America and their predecessors.

Men wore tightly measured suits with a dark elongated hat. Women donned themselves in humble handmade woolen dresses. Fighting against the stream of time, these devout followers of Christianity lived by the moral codes that 'outsiders' would consider Anachronistic and oppressive, barbaric even.

However, the small, almost unnoticeable village was in fact a perfect representation of the Church's view of a great Utopian society. All men and women, ostentatious in their equality. All living under the wise wisdom of God, obstructing all barbaric desires for pleasure, greed and power. All created equal under the constitution called the Bible and perhaps... The priests.

She herself had a personal stroll around town during the day, Much to her expectations, her status as a member of the church granted her an easy access around the town. It was a nice trip through a time machine, she thought. People were generous and accommodating. Sometimes so much so, it seemed inhuman. It was truly a perfectly biblical society; too angelic that the human part seemed to have disappeared. Perfect for philosophical reformers but not for the faint hearted, including herself.

"By the way Master, what are we doing dozing off on the hill? It's not like Shi... I mean Satsujinki is going to pop up suddenly in the middle of nowhere."  
The familiar cleaned her dirtied lips and placed her hooves beneath her cheek. It was really strange she thought, all of a sudden she decided to give her entire feedbag without a single word and now she's been silent for hours now since the tour inside the reeking village as if she's been silently waiting for kingdom come.

She's never seen her in such a state before. Not since the last encounter between her and that geeky guy with glasses called Shiki and some not so close encounter in Einhansse, Of whom, she never knew, but she could guess. Over the years she assumed that her master would have gotten over him. Truely, she's always been the ruthless Burial Agent she always knew.

She kicked some extra dead apostle asses and charcoaled their minions to dust in cold blood since that day. Just as she has done for many years and will continue to do henceforth, she's a mindless killing machine. That is a fact that won't change no matter how much she tries to escape from it.

Her master knew that more than anybody else. All she needed to know are her colleagues and a handful of Church officials who'd boss her around and give orders.

But then, for some reason, she seemed human again. The fact that she could now die could've been a factor, but there had to be something much more than that. And what, she dare not to think. Grooming her hair long had to do something with it, she assumed. But as much as she'd harbored curiosity towards her solitary master, she'd actually grown more respectful and loyal to her owner to actually bother with the interrogations. So she sat there, letting things slip by as usual, listening to her master's lectures.

"According to the info I gathered, the area around this part of the plains has only one settlement available and that's the village over there. No matter how fast Satsujinki could manage to travel across the plains he can't go on without at least restocking his supplies twice...No, once is enough."

To this the familiar's eyes widened in surprise.

"Not twice but just once? Even you had to re-stock your supply thrice before coming here!"

The agent ignored and continued with her explanation.

"He can kill a dead apostle two foot away without being detected. He managed to flee from the hot pursuit of the Wizard Marshall. Based on other first hand and third hand accounts, that's the conclusion I gathered. If there is a right time, if any, to capture him, then this is it. Even His traffic records indicate that this is the path he'll inevitably take...Seven."

Seven nodded, half awed and half surprised by her master's perfectly coordinated plan. It was both well devised and well planned. But then, it still came at a great cost, for they'll be stripped off of the privilege of sleep. Seven Sighed, but didn't make any complaints. She lied on the flat ground and gazed at the crimson moon that was slowly revealing itself between the rifts of clouds. Its fragrance was that... of rotten meat.

"You smell something?"  
Ciel rose up from the ground to the sudden change in atmosphere. The change was swift and abrupt; the odorless air was suddenly struck with a violent surge of foul stench of coagulated blood and decomposing flesh, Not the kind that is commonly encountered in places where people are seen. Ciel grit her teeth, both aghast and caught off guard by the realization that a massive murder was taking place in the village.

"No need to ask Master Ciel, Satsujinki is here right?"

"No, his method of killing doesn't leave any trace whatsoever... his cuts could even destroy smell itself. This is something else."

"You don't mean...even in America..."  
Seven drank up her parched throat, as she saw the cold expression of her master. This was a sign. A mission was ahead of them.

"There is a high chance he'll be present. I didn't feel any abnormalities before this, but someone broke the barrier. You know the rest."

***

The man made loud frantic gasps as he sprinted down the narrow alleyways with all his might. The grounds were muddy and soaked wet with the recent influx of rain. The obnoxious stench of rotting flesh permeated all over the corner but none of that mattered to him.

His life was on the brink. Everywhere he went were infested with legions of the dead. The numbers dead were massive, even more so than the legions of walking dead that permeated the very place he called home. Everything seemed surreal...no, it had to be surreal, a mere nightmare that lasts but overnight. The cries of his families and friends as they were brutally devoured head to toe right before him, the blood, the internal organs split out from the chest, pieces of bloodied flesh and splattered around him... Even that, in the end, ending up inside the body of the walking dead. That had to be a dream, a nightmare, he thought.

His wife... his children... The face of his wife that was sprayed with blood, the hands of his wife, the walking dead gouging the eyes of his sons and daughters. Munching at the flesh of the severed body parts of his children. The traumatic memory, he had to save them he thought. Even if the odds were close to none, he had to protect them, but time was too little too late. Then, in a flash…

Everybody Died

And he was the only survivor, clinging to a fragile hope of survival, He ran, oblivious to the direction he was heading.

Through the maze like alleyways he twisted and turned, until he slid and fell on the mud. The reeking mud slid inside his mouth. It tasted horrible and sour. He opened his eyes and there was blood. Not just drops, but the entire ground was painted red by it. Somewhere near him, someone or something was chewing on something. He slowly turned his head to the right. Not five feet from him were two bloodied bodies and in the middle was a woman. Her seemingly bloated abdomen was severely caved in, mercilessly gouged in by the hands of the dead. He stayed where he was, stunned and horrified, and his body shook in fear. He blankly set his eyes on the dead.

They started by ripping off the limbs and the head of the victim. As blood gushed out from the severed parts, he noticed a hand folded around the leg of one of the dead then her stomach. She was struggling for mercy, begged for mercy... did all she could to stop it from happening. But it was futile. The end product was death, no one could have possibly survived from it let alone a woman.

The man saw a small lump of flesh protruding out from the severed abdomen, it was twitching, moving... and...they ripped it off and pulled it up. Following the momentum of the pool, Another lump, this time something round came out...something... Then it struck him. It was an unidentifiable figure of a dead fetus, the woman was impregnated with a baby that had yet to see the world.

The man tried desperately to keep him from throwing up. It was disgusting, scary, and brutal. So he puked until all the contents inside his stomach was spit out. He screamed, and fled. It was stupid, that last action attracted everything towards him. There was no other path left for him but death. The church, that's where he had to flee. Escaping the narrow alley, he sprinted down to the edge of the village, all around him people, no, the dead were following him. He ignored and ran until his vision was met with a building, the church. He barged inside and barred the door with everything he could find.

Barricaded and isolated, he broke down on the ground, devastated. Like a patient trying in vain to accept his impending death, he limped his way to the altar and knelt before the Cross, bathing under the lunar light that seeped through the ornately ordained stain glass. The Amish man held his hands together and made his confessions; the sins he committed, the codes he violated. He spit them all out. The faces of all his loved ones flashed through his head in split images. He hoped deep within his heart to meet his deceased friends and families again in Heaven but even that was impossible. For he knew, only Hell awaited cowards who abandoned his loved ones to taste death, so he wept.

In the background he could start to hear the footsteps of a massive horde of the dead slowly approaching this dark empty church. Low pitched growls and the mixed odor of blood was prevalent. Death loomed everywhere around him. Soon, with the first bang on the door he gave up every bit of his wish to live. Death was the only way for him to pay for his sins he thought.

As the barricade of the door slowly gave way to the legions of the dead, he heard a low panting sound from the left corner of this cathedral. The first thought he had was the possibility of a survivor existing. But the foul odor that ensued proved the opposite. There, not ten feet away from him, the figure of a woman, her left arm severed completely, her empty eye sockets filled with blood and her severely devastated skull contorting the face to near nonrecognition. But the diamond pendant that was woven around the neck made her identity clear.

He felt his legs and arms loosing strength, it was horrifying, he rubbed his eyes over and over again but every time he did, the same image emerged over and over again in his eyes. Then it struck him.

"...My...Wife...No, it can't...it can't be!!!"  
He fell, agaped in shock. There she was, his wife, his loved one, the one whom he failed to protect.  
He crawled away from her as far away as he could until his back was met with a loud thud on the wall. Loosing every single bit of strength left in his body, he blankly stared into the dark shadow of his wife's eyes. From there, he saw death, a chilling darkness as cold as oblivion itself...

Then he came to this realization: After death there is nothing, after death his memories fade, after death his memories will be gone along with his guilt. But he didn't want that, he wanted retribution. A chance to atone for his sins. He didn't want to die, forgetting every act of sin he'd committed.

Churning out every bit of courage, he looked into the blank eyes of his wife and murmured the first thing that came into his mind, moments before the menacing hands managed a grip to his throat.

"I...want to live..."

***

A loud scatter of clink reverberated through the empty church hall as the stained glass splintered into countless bits and pieces of small debris. Following the thunderous impact, a lone figure clad in black with bandages wrapped around his eyes sprang into the obscure darkness of the cathedral making a soft landing on the surface of the square altar.

His figure was surreal. Dressed in full tattered black, the sheer presence of this itinerant alone seemed to spur an overwhelming aura of abject dissolution of space. Whatever this man or this thing was, the stupefied Amish thought, he was not someone ordinary, More than extraordinary like that of a godsent Grim Reaper, a guardian angel if you will.

The full moon behind shrouded the man in black with a surge of gold ashen light, imprinting a small shade of penumbra along the flat church floor.  
Bathing in the lunar rays, he removed a single dagger from his pocket and immediately cut loose the bandages obstructing his vision. Taking an advantage of this brief lapse in time, the walking dead left its stunned prey and instead scurried up to the intruding wanderer. It crawled it's way up to the altar and grabbed on to the foot of the man in black.

Not even shaking or giving a thought at the grappling hands of the dead, he kicked the contorted head of the zombie with his other free leg. Making a low screeching sound, the dead fell behind its back down to the wooden floor with a loud creak on the tawny wooden tile.

At once, the wanderer opened his eyes and glared down at the dead. The rest that spurred out of him was a surge of pure killing intent, a will so strong that even the Amish felt the sting of it. The dark man's deep ash blue eyes had a chilling sensation on the confused Amish. For a moment he sat on the ground stunned, but it soon became clear to him. It was a sensation not that of coldness or chill, but something totally different... Death. It was as if a vision of death was imprinted all over his eyes.

The man in black slowly tapped down to the floor, his left hand placed inside the pocket on his left and his right hand gripping on a small exquisite antique knife with a Japanese, 'Nanaya' sign emblazoned on its hilt. He observed the limping figure of the dead as it regained its balance. Soon, the zombie charged, its claws striking down its prey. But the man didn't move, with a single spark of light the claw slashed through him...Or did it?

In a split second interval, the zombie's body slowly disintegrated to bits of scattered lumps of flesh. The very foundation of the zombie's body collapsed to sections of well sliced body parts, the head, the arms, the legs, the abdomen, all segregated from each and every single part of the body.

The process was too fast, too quick to the naked eye, it all seemed to have happened in less than a millisecond but even that wouldn't properly describe the seemingly nonchalant expertise in which he cut through the flesh walking dead.

"An Angel?..."  
The Amish held his breath, trying hard to believe the scene that was unfolding right this instance.  
To this, the man in black simply made a small grin to the man and talked in a soft toned voice.

"Just a long lost student on his wayward trip to meet his Mentor."  
Seeing the confusion on the face of the Amish, he shrugged and added a short sentence to his lackluster attempt at giving a lift to the atmosphere

"...the name's Shiki...Nice to meet you."  
The Amish simply nodded, losing words to say.

-Battle phase VI: For Her-

The batter on the main door of the cathedral gradually gained volume as time passed second by second. Slowly but surely, the obstructions that barred the only entrance to this asylum were being undone with more and more impact applied to the door. By the time the dark trespasser had finished dealing with the first casualty of the dead, almost all of the desks and chairs barricading the door were in disarray and the lock holding the door together was slowly giving way to hands and arms of the marauding legion of death.

The premonition in the chapel was enough time for the virtually nonexistent barricade to collapse to nothing. The Amish held his breath as observed quickly. The bodies tried desperately to make their way to narrow openings and shallow holes on the door, oblivious of the intense injuries it inflicted upon their decomposing skin and flesh. Heads were being squished, fingers and nails were being chopped out just by the intense pressure of the bodies that massed behind them but they kept punching through, it was like a scene of those apocalyptic descriptions he'd seen on the bible, only this time the apocalypse was real and are more hideous than anything he'd ever seen before.

The Amish cringed on the corner where he dropped on the ground and shivered in defeat. He clasped his hands to the cross necklace that hung on around the rim of his neck and down to his neck and stated chanting biblical quotes about the Armageddon and such.

In contrast to the desperate act, Shiki looked totally calm and composed, not even budging from his position whatsoever. As if contemplating on something, Shiki started rubbing his cheek with his hands and started figuring the numbers of the horde that looked ready to burst into the feeble barricade at any minute. What he saw wasn't an ostentatious image of a Technicolor horror movie, but something totally different.

He saw countless lines linked through the 3 dimensional space like a mixed scramble of electronic cables and spiderwebs of disoriented order, almost covering the entire surface of any palpable mediums. On some occasions he saw lines hovering around the air, the numbers growing steadily as he kept his focus. It was as if the whole world was covered in countless blood vessels, each painted with an intense array of colors and more.

He clutched his head, as he felt a slight stinging jolt in it, but he continued. Next he counted the dots, the dots that never stood stagnant, he burned them into his head and counted them with haste. Soon the number grew exponentially, from 2 to 4 from 4 to 8. Eventually, the number grew to around two hundred something. It was a number quite surprising, but he decided to try.

Soon his eyes shifted to the interior of the chapel, the high rising roof, the scattered desks, and the architecture of the interior . Within moments, he finished with his calculations. He held his breath with one big gulp and lowered his body to almost ground level. His left hand and leg balanced his body and his right leg positioned slightly beyond the length of his left. His eyes were glaring at the now near demolished door and his dagger was held high behind his back, backwards. It was a bizarre stance, not one that you would see in any conventional martial arts class.

But, of course, this wasn't a pose meant for a match, it was a devise simply to kill. To overwhelm the enemy, killing them before they knew what was coming. The type that civilization has long abandoned but had been passed on by upon generations of apprenticeship. In short, he was ready for some killing.  
The Amish removed himself from his prayer, not even able to calm his shuddering lips from being terrified gutless. When he looked at the particular boy though one question came surfacing up his lips.

"What are you doing?"  
Still trembling though, the man managed to make an incredibly cohesive sentence. To this Shiki just made a sidewards glance before coming back to his stance

"Just a routine job..."  
Shiki spoke, his voice was rather medium pitched like the sounds you make when you shrug at people

"What? So you're like an Angel? Killing demons?"  
Shiki gave a short sigh

"I go out killing vampires, that doesn't make me an Angel, don't you think?"  
Shiki then made a short grin something about that smile had some mystery engraved in them. And a bit of Sarcasm to boot.

"Although, some might label me as an Angel under some different circumstances..."  
The crack on the door was now clearly visible and the locks was ripped off, battered to almost nothing.

"Brace yourself, They're coming..."  
in less than a second later the door burst into pieces and a massive body of walking dead came pouring in the premises. The Amish just stayed there returning to his prayers again. Shiki was just smiling, a gush of adrenaline was pumping in his body; He was ready to fight.

"Nanaya, you ready?"  
The contours around Shiki's eyes sharpened, and her expression wore an added arrogance.

"Why, it's good to be back again, got scared kiddo?"  
Shiki was talking, albeit in a scornful demeanor to no one but himself.

"Not exactly, but I think we'll need to work on this together. You won't mind?  
A polite response followed

"Tch, what a fuss...I'll help under one condition."  
Shiki tightened his grip on his dagger as he saw the room filling more and more with bodies.

"I get the first kill understood?"  
Shiki nodded without giving it another thought. When it came to blood there was no one more bloodthirsty than his alternate personality than anyone else, it would greatly reduce the workload he has but more importantly there was nothing else better to please his bored friend.

"Alright, Just don't do anything reckless, like charging right into,WHOOAAA!!!"

-Shiki/Nanaya VS the horde-

Without hearing any further consent from his master, Nanaya started. With a big stride on his right leg, Shiki's body vanished, thin gust of wind signaling their start. For a brief moment, there really was nothing to indicate of his presence, their bodies were nowhere to be seen. Then in a split second void, the figure of a jet black haired man popped in the middle of the massing horde surrounded with clusters of zombies. Shiki wore a horrified expression on his face along with an exaggerated plink.

"You Shithead!!! How do you plan on getting out of this?! You Murderous Incestial Shit!!"  
Soon the expression turned to a satisfied smirk. And his prior expression was nowhere to be found.

"Ah, Flesh!!! Blood!!! Inspiration!!!!"  
With that Nanaya began the strike. Not stopping to think it over, he charged into the amassed body of zombies without any sense of coordination whatsoever. Usually the real Nanaya never had the privilege of having eyes that can see death. So fighting a dead vampire like the ones over here he'd K.O.'d himself a couple of times before Shiki took over and went on with the killing was a lot more difficult. Well, that's what happened during the synchronization progress of things. But now, with the Sync complete and both acquiring the same abilities, things were a bit different.

His strides were fast and furious, all he could see were lines and lines, an endless stretch of them. Dodging every single blow from the horde, Nanaya maneuvered his blade and traced any lines he could see. His speed was enormous, even without using any kind of reinforcement his speed was already reaching beyond a hundred kilometer an hour. Needless to say, bodies fell en masse, all severed, both arms and legs and sometimes heads were torn apart, scattered around the ground like a big mass of dead slugs. The slashes went on and on but the number of the dead didn't seem to decrease, None of them died. As the dead are no longer alive normal methods like tracing the lines. Had no effect whatsoever on the vital signs of the marauders. But of course this was all something he had planned out.

As half the bodies were either demobilized or torn to shreds, Nanaya stopped and jumped over to the ceiling above, grabbing onto a tiny protrusion that jutted out slightly on the rim of the ceiling. He gasped for breath, finding the sport quite pleasing and yet somehow straining on his body. Then his mind came to a lapse and Shiki Tohno emerged on the surface, replacing Nanaya. Tohno Shiki was Livid about what he experienced back then, he was still having a hard time getting used to the way Nanaya handled things but that was to be expected. He was. after all, a ghost for murder. Shiki was exasperated, acting livid and angry.

"You almost got us killed Dickhead!! Do that again and I'll make sure you don't get another blood fest, got it?"

Shiki was never really was fond of such verbal abuses but living together with a rebel of such nasty caliber like Nanaya had taught him the ways of the incorrigible. This behavior had stuck as his primary way of dealing with his alter self.

Getting no reply whatsoever from his peer, Shiki sighed and began observing the pitiful remains of the detached zombies. Almost half of them were in no shape to continue. The other half though were fast on their tails to step over the heads of their kind, finding space to charge in the dim Cathedral. All order was lost and the influx was halted if only for a brief moment, to this Shiki let out a sigh of relief, seeing that his plan had worked out just as he had hoped.

Unlike Nanaya, Shiki was an individual far more controlled and calculative than Nanaya. While Nanaya's style of fighting involved being berserk and wreaking havoc en masse, Shiki was a much more strategic sort, going through many alternatives for the accomplishment of a single goal.

Shiki made another quick glance at the disarrayed horde of zombies. There were still more coming in from the outside, but the number of bodies on the ground did just enough to slow down the advance.

Shiki turned his eyes over towards the ceiling and as he expected, a single dot was visible in the middle of it. He skimmed through the ground and the ceiling, searching for the right time to launch his attack.

When all of the bodies of the dead managed to slide their way inside the narrow space, Shiki pulled his body up towards the wall and sprinted his way up to the roof and stuck his dagger up on the wall. He pushed his leg away to the rear end of the Celling, and barely managed to grab onto a window frame in the process. In a split second, the entire ceiling fell off in one big heap. The frames supporting the weight of the roof fell off down the ground, and rocks bouldered down on the amassing group, squashing almost every single zombies in place.

Just then, he heard a low pitched scream below. There was the Amish man and three zombies surrounding him, reaching out their contorted hands and hideous faces towards him. Shiki released his grab, softly landing on the surface with a roll. The distance between him and the man was too far, striding didn't seem to cut it so he went his own way.

Standing on his toes, Shiki balanced his body and made a few short hops. With a single, perfectly timed maneuver, Shiki hurled his dagger onto the line of zombies and vanished to thin air. Shortly after, a single dagger stuck into the zombie to the left, directly on the dot in its head. Following the strike, Shiki appeared hovering in the air. His hand grabbed onto the head of the next one and with a single twist, ripped it right off to the neck. His body collided with the last zombie remaining, sending it tumbling down the ground just before it managed get to the Amish. The zombie made a small groan and lifted itself up but it was too late.

Up above it was Shiki, with his blue cobalt eyes, bathing under the lunar light and glaring at the last vampire left of this ordeal. Not giving it time to get its footing, Shiki grabbed its head with his arms and pierced through the left side of its chest, using his fingers as a weapon. His fingers, hand, and arm slid through the chest softly like butter, ripping through the ribcage along with the heart and the spine before exiting through the back of the once human creature. The zombie immediately stopped any kind of motions whatsoever, it lapsed into a standstill and died. He'd hit the right spot.

-End Battle Phase VI-

"Well well, look what we have here. A stray assassin in America hunting zombies?"  
Shiki turned at the sound of a girl at first he thought it was one of the survivors but he was wrong. The voice emanated from the door to the cathedral. Shiki rolled his eyes to see the perpetrator. The dawn was opening anew behind him and the new brand of light shining down on the cathedral managed to give him a good look at the girl. Her hair was a perfectly streamlined jet black, her eyes were tawny brown, gleaming with glitters that seemed to perfectly blend in with the light of the sun.

She had the look of a perfect girl in her early teens, every inch of her face was emanating the kind of allure that most men would immediately fall into. Her plumy lips were light pink, laden with traces of lipstick. She wore a white dress, the lights were bright on her so he couldn't make it out clearly but he guessed it was sort of the Victorian dress that ancient women wore. In one word: Breathtaking.

"So, what is the grand lord of Primate Murder, the Black Princess, doing here? I don't suppose you're here for a fight?"  
Shiki added with a little smirk around his face. Altrouge, he'd saw this girl only once before and her face stuck in her memories. He'd usually make it his business to forget about the victims he killed after work was done. Most vampires were fodder to him. Heck, he didn't even know the names of the dead apostles he killed. But what made her special was something totally different.

She was the sister of someone he loved dearly; the moon princess, Arcueid. Perhaps the only other creature in this world who'd had a long standing relationship with him apart from Ciel and probably the one who might find an answer to the question he's long yearned for an answer.

To Shiki's reply the Black Princess laughed, with a low pitched, "Tee-Hee." The smile surprisingly suited her petite figure, almost to a state of perfection. The princess stopped in a little while and began her talk.

"Please Relax, Mr. Satsujinki. I am not here for some meaningless fight."  
Shiki folded his arms across his chest and twisted his lips showing a sign of disapproval but the princess continued.

"I am here as to enforce a new set of rules we have made for our faction. As it seems our opposing faction has violated our declaration and has shown us an act of defiance, we were merely here to 'apprehend' the culprit of this unpleasant trespass. It was just a chance happening that you were here"

Shiki smiled, somehow relieved at the fact that she wasn't here for some hostility. He had heard that the black princess possessed the power to rival even Arcueid herself. If that was true, that would have been a great cause of concern but that wasn't the exact reason why he was relieved. She was cute and therefore beauties are better kept reserved. It was rare to see a vampire as beautiful around her he thought, better keep the best fruit for last.

"A political battle for power and supremacy? You vampires are complicated creatures, aren't you?"  
The dark princess made a low brow and stretched her thin lips to an elegant smile. She then bowed and kept her gaze fixated at Shiki.

"I heard you are living the life of an itinerant searching for the cure to my sister's ailment. Is this true?"  
Shiki simply nodded. The dark princess was somehow pleased by the answer he gave.

"Then I have a nice proposition to offer you, would you care to listen?"  
Shiki was slightly caught off guard by this, but he remained cool and calm. However, he was indeed interested, so Shiki nodded again. There was this Miss Blue he wanted to meet in Las Vegas, but indeed extra information wasn't going to hurt.

"How nice of you. Shall we, then?"  
All of a sudden the sky behind them turned dark, a door appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the wide open yard. The black princess entered, followed by Shiki.

***

Ciel rushed down to the town, her clothes were in tatters and she had managed to deplete most of her black keys trying to fight her way through the wall of walking dead. This kind were much more rigid and hard to take down than the usual breed thanks to Bach, a former puppet master and the manipulator of strings. He was one of genius dimwit magicians who became a vampire by his own research. Her fight with the bizarre creature was long and tough, and she had been out of options, resorting to using seven in a fight. And for the first time in a long while, she cursed herself for not being an immortal, thinking that things would've ended more quickly. Figures. She eventually won, but had little doubt that he had won the game.

"Dammit Seven!!! move your horse's ass up here !! There'll be no carrots if you don't!!!!"  
Ciel, in her combat suit was climbing a high stiff hill again. To think that the enemy was right on their path… It felt sickening for her to think, but she was getting old too she thought. Again, she cursed her lack of stamina.

"But master!!! I have hooves as feets and hands I can't go any faster than this!!!"

"Get on all fours, you idiot!!! We're going to have some serious discussion with the council if we fail this one!!!!"  
Ciel's long straight hair was vigorously dancing along the prevailing wind. She grabbed a hairpin from her pocket and fixed them on her hair. The way she handled things was a bit sloppy,but then again she didn't mind that, she always used items based on pragmatism rather than style, she didn't really care as long as it worked.

Finishing with the hair, Ciel left behind Seven who was trying in vain trying to imitate the horse walk her master suggested, yet it still didn't work out as she'd hoped.  
"Dammit!!!"  
Moving past the hill, Ciel encountered a giant chapel that rot with smell of decomposing flesh. She continued sprinting and when she reached the front of the door, she kicked it, obliterating its pitiful remnants. Ciel entered, but as her feet was met by a giant lump of flesh, she fell straight down to the meat or a mass of corpses depending on how you put it. Now she smelled...bad.

"Are you looking for the man with the wrappings on his eyes?"  
Ciel rose her head up from the stack of meat, above it she saw an old man with a typical Amish look  
with a dazed expression on his face. Ciel nodded, still on the ground, loosing words to say at her predicament.

"He just walked past that way over there, to the Northeast, a few day's walk from here and you'll see the desert of Nevada. I suppose he is going to Las Vegas..."  
Ciel rose up with the blood smeared all over her face, it was supposed to be gross but it was more funny if you think about it.

"...Would you like to use the shower? Your friend there called you his friend and to provide you with whatever you need...He then left without another word."

Ciel thought about leaving right away but the smell was so bad it stung. She decided she'll take a short break here and resupply.

"Thank you...mind telling me where is the shower?"  
Ciel limply walked out of the church. Well, at least she knew where to go next...

End Apple Street Agency Chapter4 ½ : Satsujinki


End file.
